Death
by ExLibris3
Summary: There is something in the air, a smell – no, a feeling – you know it the moment you walk into the diner, you’ve felt it so many times before. Death. Spoilers for JD. Ziva's POV. Angst.


_A/N: This is set during the Judgment Day ep, the scene where Tony and Ziva find Jen in the diner... Written from Ziva's POV. Angsty. Please review!_

_**Death**_

It is silent. Just so silent, like the calm before a storm, only in this case, it was the calm _after_ the storm. It is so still, so eerie. There is something in the air, a smell – no, a feeling – you know it the moment you walk into the diner, you've felt it so many times before. Death. You know the smells, feelings, taste and looks of death. You know death.

The sickly sweet scent of blood.

The reek of gunpowder and dust.

You breathe through your mouth, as you slowly make your way through the diner. You know. You just know what you're going to find, yet you're frozen in shock when you see her. _Her_.

Blue shirt stained red. Blonde hair framing a face pale, so pale, paler than usual. Her life spilled on the concrete floor.

You draw a shaky, ragged breath. Look away. No. _No._

You call for your partner, see the pain and agony in his eyes. He steps forward, you cannot move. Checking for pulse. Pulls back slowly and you know, you know he couldn't find one. You cannot move.

You want to blame him. You want to, but it is not his fault. It's no one's fault, yet everyone will blame themselves. But no one will say anything. No one will blame anyone but themselves.

So you blame yourself. You should have known, but how could you have? Still, you shouldn't have left her. You were given a direct order – and you followed it. Like you're supposed to. You knew something wasn't right – you had felt it.

A phone rings. It's Jenny's. The screen lights up and you see it – Gibbs' name on the called id and your hearts breaks.

Tony picks it up, answers it and you can hear Gibbs' voice – sounding almost desperate, and maybe he knows something is not right. You look at Tony – glad you're not the one holding the phone, but feel sorry that he's the one who has to break the news. You turn away, hear Tony's weak voice and you stare through the dirty windows. If only you'd gotten here sooner.

"_Boss, it's Tony. She's…I'm sorry. She's dead."_

You fight tears, a battle you're winning but you don't know for how much longer you can keep them at bay. But you have a job to do; there will be time to grieve. Just not right now.

Finally regaining your ability to move, you silently step over the body of a dead man. Look around. Four against one. _Jenny, you didn't stand a chance. But you got them all, and they got you. If only we'd gotten here sooner. We might all be alive._

You need to get some air, can't stand the smell of her blood and the sound of Tony's hushed voice, still on the phone. You're not sure who he's talking to.

The sun hits your face, a gentle breeze ruffles your hair. Your gaze travels along the empty road. The black van, the one you had seen before at the gas station. You shield your eyes against the glaring sun. Walk up to the car you came in and can't stop yourself from kicking the tire.

A heavy hand lands on your shoulder. You don't turn; don't want to meet his gaze. You both know you've screwed up, and now Jenny is dead.

"_Gibbs is on his way."_ he says quietly, and you nod your head. _"And so is assistant director Vance."_

You shrug his hand off your shoulder, avoid looking at him. Look back at the diner with the broken windows. The sun hurts your eyes and a small tear trickles down your cheek. You wipe it away with the back of your hand.

You're so young, but still you have lost so much – so many people you cared about have been taken from you. You blame yourself for each death, even though they weren't your fault. You should have saved them – you should have saved all of them. But you didn't and it's a huge weight on your young shoulders.

There's not much you can do right now, just wait. And while you wait, you remember the woman you admired, who intrigued you. Remembered the special bond between you two. Friendship. Partnership. Trust.

You wait, because there is nothing else you can do. And your mind digs up memories of her you though you'd forgotten. Everything. All the moments you'd spent with her, safely locked into the secret chamber of your heart.

It's surreal to think that she's gone. It doesn't make any sense to you.

You do not understand.

---

It's late. It's dark.

Two suitcases lay open on your bed. You've slipped into sweatpants and a tank top because you needed to get out of the black dress you had worn at the funeral. It is now stuffed somewhere at the bottom of a drawer, you do not wish to see it again.

You're packing; tomorrow you will be on a plane to Tel Aviv. You're still trying to wrap your head around that. But maybe it's better this way, at least for a while. Maybe you need to get away from Washington, just for now. You need something else to think about than Jenny.

But you're leaving behind your team. And you know you will miss them. Hell, you miss them already. And you're not even gone yet.

You don't have a choice. You know Gibbs, he will bring you back, eventually. You know he will.

You rummage though your drawer, in search for something you might need to bring with you.

In your bedside table you stumble upon something you'd forgotten was there. A photo of Jenny. You'd forgotten the reason you'd kept it in the drawer of your bedside table, barely remembered putting it there.

When you pick it up and look at it, your eyes burn and it's getting harder and harder to ignore the need to cry.

You don't notice your fingers trembling as they gently caress the picture, portraying your favorite redhead in Egypt. Her hair glimmering scarlet in the African sun, her smile enough to melt your heart.

Tim calls. Wanting to say goodbye. He's always been so sweet, and you know you'll miss him. It's hard. You tell him you'll stay in touch, and say goodbye.

When your suitcases are packed and placed next to your front door, you drink the last of you wine and go to bed.

The picture is standing on your bedside table, and you cannot take your eyes off her.

You'll miss her.

You will not ever forget her.

You cry silently into your pillow.

She is gone.

You do not understand.

_**The End**_


End file.
